


Cry it out

by toddykun



Series: little tumblr prompts [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Donald being a wonderful Support System as always, Gen, Little Fluff, Men Crying, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Shadow War, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 22:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16334015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toddykun/pseuds/toddykun
Summary: Since when Donald looked so unreachable?





	Cry it out

**Author's Note:**

> anon: Number 14 for Donald and Scrooge  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **#14. “You’re a disappointment.” + Donald & Scrooge**  
> [This fic on Tumblr](http://toddy-kun.tumblr.com/post/179171724230/number-14-for-donald-and-scrooge)

“You’re a disappointment.”

Scrooge stopped on his tracks, the hand that was about to hold onto his nephew’s shoulder hanging uselessly in midair, he felt freeze on the spot, trying to blink away his confusion over the statement. Donald’s back seemed bigger out of nowhere but so far away from him anyways, he didn’t know why he thought it was a good idea to touch it considering he couldn’t reach him at all at that distance. Donald was also carrying three familiar eggs on his arms, Scrooge felt the horrible anticipation of something that was going to go very, very wrong.

“Lad-,” he tried again, but Donald interrupted him with an incredulous scoff that shut up Scrooge immediately by how cold it sounded and  _did Donald seemed even more away from him?_

_Since when Donald looked so unreachable?_

Donald turned around the exact amount to side-eye him, a dark gaze on his face and a deceptive frown enhancing his angered face. “You said you were going to protect us, you said you were going to protect  _her. You lost their mother, Scrooge_.” Scrooge felt like he couldn’t breathe, like all the air on his lungs left him in a second. Donald kept going, with every word he said, he sounded stronger but muffled, like someone that was screaming at you from a closed room. “You lost my sister, just like you lost yours. Hell, you couldn’t even do one thing right for my mom even after all this time.”

Donald didn´t sound angry even if his face was another issue, but that distressed Scrooge, all the same, that terrified him. He sounded so devoid of emotion like he wasn’t Donald at all, but Scrooge didn’t seem capable of acknowledging it, his mind too busy trying to comprehend the screams and sadness and cries coming from his own thoughts. Donald started to really walk away, he was leaving with the eggs.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Donald was leaving though, the twins made similar decisions in different circumstances even if they were not aware of it. Scrooge knew this.

_Della left._

_Of course, Donald would leave too_.

Scrooge tried to call him but no sound came from his beak. He tried again, over and over again, but not a sound left. Terrified, his hands went too enclosed on his throat suddenly more scared than before. He tried to say sorry, he tried to beg Donald to come back, to not leave him too. He tried to run after him. All those actions went to no avail. Terror started to grow around him like a vine, entailing him tightly, not leaving room to move, the vines started to grow around his throat replacing his hands that tried uselessly to free him from them. Donald seemed even more far away, Scrooge almost couldn’t see him.

He was sorry, he was so sorry. Why couldn’t he get those words out?  _Pride? Stubbornness?_  It wasn’t his fault all of that-. But  _it was_  partially his fault. Donald knew this, that’s why he was leaving. That’s why he wanted him to not leave.

He tried to call Donald’s name again in the mist of all the screams that appeared on the room, all of them different, coming from the present and the past, some of them sad, some of them angered, all of them suffering. Scrooge could not bear with it anymore.  _Please don’t leave me alone…_

_Donald._

_You’re a disappointment._

_Nephew._

_You fucked up the last chance to make up to Hortense._

_Donnie._

_You lost her. You failed me. You lost them both in the same day._

_Son._

_All of them._

**_“DONALD!”_ **

Scrooge screamed, the sound piercing through the night and the mansion like a bullet, breaking the silence that has been hanging calmly around the place. Scrooge grasped his bed sheets tight between his fingers like he was holding for dear life, kicking and thrashing around, grinding his teeth without being aware of doing it. He sweated even when it was a cold November’s night, there were tears running down his cheeks, he didn’t seem to be awake even if his eyes were open wide, still inside his nightmare, even when two familiar hands started to shake him up and a quacky voice called him worried.

“-ge! Scrooge! C’mon! Wake up!  _I’m here,_   _Uncle Scrooge!_ ”

Out of nowhere, Scrooge sat up, looking frightened to his core, gasping for air like he hadn’t been breathing for years, he whined like a hurt puppy. Donald almost jumped out of the bed from where he had been sitting trying to calm Scrooge kicking and trashing of the bed and from hurting himself, what was now a disaster, but recovered surprisingly fast, leaving his hands in midair, ready to take action if necessary. Scrooge stared wide-eyed ahead of him, unaware of Donald in front of him, eyes unfocused, his pupils were dilated and his heart raced against his ribcage.

A good time passed from there until Scrooge started to blink away his tears and he could focus on his nephew, reassuring smile in place. Scrooge didn’t know from where the horrible feeling of abandonment came from but it was eating his heart away and so he started crying at the sight of Donald.

“Donald, lad, you came back, you’re here,” he stuttered between the words, touching Donald’s face, his shoulders, his arms, his hands, trying to remain sure of his existence, that he was not alone. That this Donald wasn’t a product of his lonely and old mind.

Donald blinked, a confused expression on his face but remained calm, grounding foundation to the anxious’ base of Scrooge. He continued smiling. “Of course? Where else would I be?”

_Where else would he be?_

Scrooge let a broken cry escape his beak and kept grasping Donald’s pink pajamas like he was holding for dear life. Scrooge cursed at himself when he felt Donald tensing, but he relaxed just as fast, hugging Scrooge and guiding his head with one hand to his shoulder. And there, tucked into his arms and with his face hidden in the crook of his neck, Scrooge let himself go. Scrooge cried, and cried, completely inconsolable. He couldn’t remember anything, absolutely anything of the dream, but the feeling was still present: terror, horror, fear. Invisible vines tightening around his body and regret nailing him down to his bed.

Scrooge felt a soft caress on his back and hear Donald scoffing, sounding amused. “I’m getting old, Uncle Scrooge. Stop worrying me.”

Scrooge wanted to laugh at that but didn’t found the strength. How could Donald come to him like this? All worried but calm and like he had let go of his anger for Della? But, wasn’t that the thing that Scrooge wanted him to do since the start? To let it go and come to him again? He didn’t feel like he deserved it. Was he being selfish? The question of “Did I disappoint you?” burned his tongue like his saliva was lava. Instead, Scrooge cried a plead of “sorry”s, hiccupping like a kid, holding tighter to Donald’s pajamas.

Donald kept caressing his back until he couldn’t hear Scrooge crying anymore, until he fell asleep again, like nothing had ever happened, snoring away softly, and breathing calmly. Donald accommodates him again on his bed. If the feathers of his cheeks didn’t have that texture of dried tears, he could almost believe this night terror was a product of his imagination. But Donald knew better, like he knew Scrooge wouldn’t probably remember this episode at all in the morning. Night terrors were like that sometimes, it was probably for the better, he didn’t know how to address this to his uncle. Donald said something anyways, sadness in his voice, “I’m sorry, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I DIED. this took longer than I thought and damn, i was going to write about Scrooge making feel Donald like shit but then Scrooge having Night Terror because of the day that both his niece and nephews left him alone came to me and i couldn't let it go. ALSO SEASON 2 IS COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!! gotta sleep now, its like, 2:49 am here lmao
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!!! (cuz it hurt me like a trainwreck sobs)
> 
> come bother me if u want to:  
> [my writing and art tumblr](http://toddy-does.tumblr.com/)  
> [my personal tumblr](http://toddy-kun.tumblr.com/)  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/toddywithcereal)


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